


Beep-Beep

by Lucifuge5



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Comment Fic, Gen, angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 10:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/pseuds/Lucifuge5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Mel_fabu's prompt of: <em>Mikey & Gerard (not incest) telepathy. . . :D</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Beep-Beep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [melusina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melusina/gifts).



> Warnings for: mentions of alcohol and drug use, mentions of depression

* * *

**1.** There isn't a time Gerard doesn't remember not feeling _connected_ to Mikey or talking to him--even if they're in different rooms. From the first gurgle-hungry when Mikey was a day old to his running monologue/Ode to Jarvis Cocker when he's a teenager, Mikey's been a constant presence in Gerard's _mind_.

 

 **2.** It's not until Gerard's first (and totally embarrassing) crush at the age of 13 that he figures out how well his and Mikey's telepathic bond works.

Gerard doesn't mean to be thinking about Danny, but he's focusing on the drawing, making sure that the zombie killer on the page looks badass. The only badass guy he knows is Danny, a guy who lives three houses down. With his leather jacket (a hand-me-down from his older brother Jack) and the cigarette dangling from his mouth, Danny is everything Gerard isn't. He is about Gerard's height but leaner. The one thing that makes Gerard feel _funny_ whenever he's crossed paths with Danny is the vibe of rebellion, of not caring what anyone else thinks, that hangs around him. 

Danny's a junior in Gerard's school. Though not one of the assholes who'll pick on Gerard for liking 'faggy music like Queen', he's friends with some of those jerks. Thankfully, Danny tends to ignore him.

Anyway, one night, Mikey's online, downloading some Disney movies to make some extra cash, tapping his feet to the Blur songs coming from the speakers. Suddenly, he turns around and gives Gerard a _look_.

"Danny Briggs? You think he's hot?" Mikey makes a face at his brother.

Gerard drops the pencil and chews on his bottom lip. His face feels hot. "Wha-?"

"Dude, I _heard_ you. Like, thinking about the way Danny's butt looks in the black jeans and how you--"

"Never mind! Never mind!" Gerard jumps off from his bed, flapping his hands because hearing his thoughts parroted to him in his little brother's voice is kinda creepy. "You could've told me that I was, you know, thinking about, um, _him_. "

"Whatever." Mikey pushes his glasses up. "We're like, I dunno, walkie-talkies or something."

"Man, that's just fucked-up," Gerard says and starts to chew on a stray hangnail. _There are no secrets. I'm not my own person. Why would someone want to listen to me? I'm just--"_

Mikey's voice breaks the stream of thoughts with calm reassurance. _You're just my brother, Gee. Always have been and always will be._

 

 **3.** Pills and booze are great because then Gerard doesn't have to think about what a loser he is. On the other hand, it dulls the bond with Mikey (unless Mikey's high and/or drunk too.) Though it takes him a while, it's not until Japan that he accepts it's time to sober up. Mikey's voice in his head is almost nothing more than white noise.

He's never felt so alone.

 

 **4.** Paramour is like waiting for the end of the world with a half-gallon of gasoline and a box of matches.

Though they joke about the studio being haunted, eventually everyone (even cool-as-a-cucumber Toro) starts cracking under the pressure of coming up with a successful album and the isolation and the fact that even though Gerard's sobered up, Mikey continues to self-medicate. Too wrapped up in the album's epic concept, it takes Gerard some time (way too long) to realize that Mikey's voice has fizzled out to nothing at all.

It's the silence what pushes him to seek out Mikey, to be his big brother, to protect him as he's always vowed he would. Because, it doesn't matter whether they're telepaths or rock stars or two kids from the almost-grungy part of Belleville. The most important thing is having each other's backs.

So Gerard puts his own fears and anxieties in a box marked "to be opened later", pushes that to the back of his mind and makes his way to Mikey's room.

Mikey's sitting on his bed, shoulders slumped, his eyes staring at nothing. He looks exhausted, like he's two seconds away from crumbling down.

Gerard sighs. How did he not notice this? "I'm sorry, Mikes," he says, taking the spot next to Mikey.

"There's nothing to apologize," Mikey answers flatly. "It's this house. It's me. I'm just--it's all fucked up."

"I should've been there for you," Gerard says, pushing the words through the knot in his throat, and pulls his brother to him, hugging him tight.

"We should've been there for each other," Mikey replies. "I need help." A few tears sliding down his face.

"Anything. We'll call Brian or, if he can't do anything, we'll fucking walk back to civilization. Fuck this, Mikey."

Mikey sobs for a few more minutes. Gerard rocks them side to side as he hums one of the songs from Elena's favorite albums.

~*~

It's not until weeks later, after Mikey's moved out the mansion and getting himself sorted out, that Gerard's able to hear him in his head again. He's already in bed, his body relaxing into sleep, but the elation of feeling their link reestablished wakes him up at once.

_Jonathan, one of my therapists, says I have some codependent tendencies when it comes to my relationship with you._

Gerard chuckles at Mikey's snarky tone. _Wait til you tell him that we share a telepathic bond then!_

_You're so funny, Gee. Hey, did Toro and Frank ever worked out that Cabaret-style song?_

Comforted by the idea that Mikey must be eyerolling at him, Gerard closes his eyes and settles down in his bed. _If you keep calling it Cabaret-style, I'm gonna have to do something drastic like, like--_

_Like?_

Gerard shrugs at the darkness. _I dunno. Like trying to pull strings and asking Liza fucking Minelli to do some of the back vocals._

_You're one deranged motherfucker, Gee._

_I'm also your big brother._

Though it's late-early (somewhere around the neighborhood of 5 a.m.), Gerard smiles. He can't wait for tomorrow.


End file.
